


Dance

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Gondolin celebrates its new soldiers.





	Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ulan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for Glorfindel-of-Imladris’ “Glorfindel and Erestor [kissing passionately]” request on [my tumblr prompt list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/176075204220/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Erestor’s never been one for parties.

Granted, he hasn’t _been_ to many—his dedication to his studies and his work has left him with a comfortably small group of friends, and they’ve all learned by now that he isn’t one for excessive wine and over-loud music. He wasn’t in his fifties, when that was all anyone ever wanted to do, and he’s not in his two hundreds, which he’d like to think is when reasonable young adults taper off such nonsense. Evidently, he’s wrong. Because the enormous manor is pulsing with one too many bodies, each drunk beyond measure. Erestor stands against the back wall, nursing a single glass of barely-touched wine and trying to keep it all from getting to him.

It’s getting to him in a different way than usual. The crowd is too boisterous to hear the music over, and the stuffy ballroom is too hot to feel cozy, but the joyous mood is slowly piercing through him. He feels, like they do, an immense sense of pride for those this celebration honours. Or at least, he feels it for one soldier in particular. The next wave of recruits has been officially sworn into the royal guard, and none deserve it more than Glorfindel.

Constantly surrounded by one group or another, Glorfindel slowly circulates the party, barely having time to enjoy his own drink with how many conversations he’s pulled into. Erestor indulgently watches two women block him in, one clutching to either arm, as they simper over his achievement. He scored the highest of all the entrants on the grueling courses assigned to them. He passed with flying colours, and rumour has it he’ll soon be posted in Tuor’s own guard, if not with King Turgon himself. Having seen firsthand how hard Glorfindel’s trained for this, Erestor is genuinely happy for his friend. 

He came on Glorfindel’s invitation. The manor hosting the festivities can only house so many, and most commoners were not extended such an honour. Erestor’s always been an exception. He never asked for it. But when Glorfindel asked him to attend, sweaty and out of breath from another hard drill, Erestor couldn’t refuse. Now he’s glad he came, even if the atmosphere is stifling. Glorfindel’s always particularly beautiful when he’s _happy_.

He looks up, then, catching Erestor’s eye across the crowded room, and he offers a special smile that Erestor holds onto. But a third woman joins the first two, and the three of them recapture his attention.

This won’t be the end of that. Erestor knows it—Glorfindel’s _always_ been sought after: he’s highborn and handsome, noble and charismatic, both likeable and loveable. It’s often baffled Erestor that Glorfindel would choose _him_ for a friend, someone so very different. But Erestor’s thoroughly valued every moment they’ve shared together, and he knows those moments are about to become far more scarce. It isn’t just that Glorfindel’s already lofty popularity will rise, but that his new duties will eat up much of his time. Erestor himself is almost always working. Eventually, their simple friendship won’t be enough to hold Glorfindel’s already divided attention.

Erestor’s always been more prone to waiting in thought than action, but that idea nags at him. He looks at Glorfindel and sees a clock above him, ticking slowly down. Erestor knows he’s already been waiting far too long.

With a deep breath, Erestor moves forward. He sets his glass down on the first table he passes, freeing up both hands as he makes his way through the pulsing throng. Glorfindel looks up as soon as he arrives, and Erestor wastes no time with pleasantries—he takes a hold of Glorfindel’s sleeve and tugs him lightly out of his admirers’ grasps. They blink at Erestor, surprised, but Glorfindel follows easily where Erestor takes him.

Only a few steps away, they stop, and Glorfindel leans in to say over the music, “Thank you for coming. I know you must be waiting to leave...”

Erestor has no answer. Instead, he threads his fingers through the dazzling curtain of Glorfindel’s blond hair, and he pulls Glorfindel into him—he seals a fervent kiss that he’d meant to be restrained, but it comes out so passionate that his entire body arches into Glorfindel’s. His hand slides down to caress Glorfindel’s cheek, his lips parting against Glorfindel’s and his tongue asking for entry. Glorfindel opens up and sucks Erestor in. The kiss lasts longer than he means it to, because Glorfindel presses back with equal interest.

When they do part, Glorfindel’s lips stretch into a smile. His clear eyes flicker down Erestor’s body, and then he pulls Erestor back against him for another. Afterwards, he murmurs over Erestor’s lips, “If I had known all I had to do to win your heart was to don a nice set of armour, I would have commissioned one years ago.”

Erestor lets out a withered sigh and doesn’t dignify that with a retort. But he’s pleased that his assumptions were correct—Glorfindel clearly feels the same and isn’t about to let Erestor fall by the wayside. 

Glorfindel gives him another kiss, then takes hold of Erestor’s hand and guides him from the hall, always aware of just what Erestor wants and needs.


End file.
